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Authors: Cecil Cross

BOOK: First Semester
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“This is so stupid,” she said. “You know you don't have to do this to impress me.”

If she had stopped there, I could've easily walked away from the situation, laughing at Downtown-D for getting suckered into blowing almost five hundred dollars at the bar. But she kept going.

“I mean, Deiondre is competitive,” she said. “He's not going to let you win.”


Let
me win?” I asked in a drunken stupor. “Bartender, go ahead and ring up two bottles apiece for Katrina and her friends.”

“That's going to be seven-twenty, sir,” she said, with a smile on her face. “How did you want to pay for that?”

“Cash,” I said, whipping out my entire wad of big-faced bills, without hesitation.

By that time, all of her girls were looking at me like I was the man. Katrina hadn't even introduced me to them yet, but I figured I'd already won them over with my showmanship and flossin'.

“This shit here is for the birds, man,” Downtown-D said as he stormed off. “I'm outta here!”

“Thanks for all the drinks, J.D.,” Kat said as she glanced at the twelve ice-cold bottles of Moët neatly aligned on the bar.

“Yeah,” her friends said one by one, as I passed out glasses to each of them. “Thanks, J.D.”

I didn't think twice about damn near blowing my entire refund check on Katrina at the bar that night. Where I would get money to wash my clothes, eat and go out for the rest of the semester wasn't important to me. I couldn't have been happier as I sat back sipping on my own glass of Moët, watching Katrina and her friends enjoying theirs. At the moment, I felt like I had just defeated Mr. Undefeated himself. Downtown-D had everything a guy in college could ever want—money, popularity, transportation, a sculpted physique and women. But at that moment, I figured I had him beat.

That moment didn't last long. One trip to the restroom ruined my entire ideology.

By the time I swung the bathroom door open, I'd damn near pissed my pants. When I looked up in the mirror, my eyes widened. I saw Downtown-D backpedaling into the bathroom, being pushed backward by a female. He was holding her wrists, but she kept her hands firmly pressed against his chest, shoving him into the first stall. I slapped some water on my face to make sure what I thought I was seeing was what I was really seeing. I was right. And Downtown-D was in the wrong. The girl he was in the bathroom with wasn't Kat. But she was a freak. As I used the urinal closest to the stall they were in, I heard Downtown-D groaning. I peaked underneath the stall, but all I could make out was the girl sitting on the toilet while Downtown-D stood over her. The smacking sound the female made with her mouth almost gave me a hard-on while I was using the bathroom. I zipped up my slacks and stumbled back to the dance floor, shaking my head in disbelief.

The more I thought about the situation, the faster the lump in my throat grew. I couldn't believe some chick was going downtown on D in the bathroom for nada, and I'd just spent my life savings on some girls I didn't know, and all I got was nada.

CHAPTER 17

UNHAPPY BIRTHDAY

T
hanksgiving break couldn't have come at a better time. My classes were stressing me out, I was getting tired of eating the Cafeteria food, and ever since the shitty prank Lawry pulled on Dub-B, we hadn't been allowed to have female visitors in the dorm. V-Man suspended our visitation privileges until the guy he called the “Boo-Boo Bandit” fessed up.

Even though Kat always reminded me that she wouldn't be “caught dead” in Marshall Hall, even if we had visitation, the fact that she couldn't come over even if she wanted to further reminded her of my freshman status. Then again, if that was a problem for her, I couldn't tell. During the break, I hooked up with Kat almost every day. If I wasn't over at her place, she was chilling with me at my uncle Leroy's crib. For a week, we did everything together—the movies, the mall, the bowling alley. And when we weren't doing any of that, we were doing each other. We did it at Lenox Mall, in the dressing room at Victoria's Secret. We did it in the elevator on the way up to her room. Then we did it in the shower, once we got there. I was going through rubbers like tires at the Daytona 500. If you saw Kat, I wasn't far behind. She said she loved my spontaneity. And I loved just about everything about her.

Somehow, between our sexcapades, we even found time to study for our biology final together. The fact that I'd managed to somehow come up with a seventy-two on my midterm, without the cheat sheet, gave me the confidence that our study sessions were actually paying off. But more importantly, so was all of the quality time the two of us were spending together.

By the time we returned to school, Kat and I were officially “talking.” Everyone knows that when two people are “talking,” that generally means both parties are genuinely interested in each other and their feelings for one another are mutual. But the term “talking” to somebody is often used loosely, leaving an expansive gray area, and just enough room for excusable infidelity.

At any rate, being back on campus meant I was back to being “the man.” There were only a couple of weeks of school left in the semester, and I had more schoolwork to do than I'd ever had in my life. I had a week to finish up two ten-page term papers that I hadn't started, in addition to studying for my biology, algebra and First Year Seminar finals. All of this pressure, with my nineteenth birthday just one day away. Luckily, my birthday fell on a Friday, so I planned on kicking it that weekend and buckling down on Sunday to study. I devised my plan while sitting in Dr. J's class, waiting to be dismissed. Since I only had First Year Seminar one day a week, that meant our class would be meeting again twice. He gave us a study sheet to complete to prepare for his test. Dr. J reminded the class of his motto, just before we left his class.

“And whatever you do, remember the five Ps,” he said. “Proper preparation prevents poor performance. I know that all of you scholars have finals to study for in other classes, but I'm giving you ample time to study for this one. You've got two weeks until test time, so I don't want to hear any excuses. Now all of you scholars enjoy the rest of the week.”

As I placed my notebook in my backpack, I heard Dr. J's Sidekick pager sound off. Just as the girl nearest the door was about to walk out of class, Dr. J stopped her.

“Wait,” he said, a blank stare coming over his face. “Everybody have a seat.”

Groans and murmurs quickly spread throughout the room. Dr. J solemnly sat on top of his desk, buried his chin in his chest and took a deep breath.

“Is everybody seated?” he asked.

“Yes,” Lawry said in an aggravated tone.

“Please be patient. I know all of you have other classes to get to, but I believe your tardiness will be excused under the current circumstances.”

He paused briefly, lifted his head toward the sky, then cupped his face in his hands. At that moment, I could sense that whatever he had to tell us wasn't good news.

“Look, there's really no easy way for me to say this. I just received a message notifying me that one of your classmates has passed on. He was actually a student in this very class. According to what I just heard, a student by the name of Shammond Salisbury, whom most of you all know as Stretch, passed away today.”

A few of the girls covered their mouths in shock. Most of the fellas hung their heads. The expression on my face turned to stone. By the time I could think to say something, someone else in the class had already said it.

“No!” Fresh screamed.

“C'mon, man, you can't be serious,” Lawry said.

“My teammate?” Dub-B asked.

“Yes,” Dr. J said. “I'm sorry.”

“This can't be happening,” Fresh said. “It seems like we were just with him the other day. Where did this…When did…How did this happen?”

“I don't know much,” Dr. J said. “All I know is that the police believe he may have been under the influence when he veered off the interstate. I don't even know how truthful that statement is. Like I said, I'm just getting this information for the first time myself. And again, I'm sorry that some of you all have lost a friend, or a classmate. Each of you is welcome to stay in here for as long as you need to.”

At that point, I was pretty fed up with death. I thought that by going away to school, I'd left all of that behind me in Oakland. I'd made up my mind that I didn't want to hear about it, and I didn't want to accept it. Instead of sulking in it, I just grabbed my backpack, slung it over my shoulder and headed for the door, shaking my head back and forth in disgust. I was one step outside my door when I felt Dr. J grab me by my arm.

“J-Dizzle,” he said, spinning me around. “Are you gonna be okay?”

“Yeah, Doc,” I said. “I should be straight.”

“Hey, man, losing a friend can be hard. Believe me. I know. But you've just got to keep pushing—if not for yourself, for them. You know?”

“Yeah, man,” I said, wiping a tear from the corner of my eye. “I know.”

After seeing all of the professors who came out to Stretch's candlelight vigil on campus, I could tell that most of them weren't just teaching for a paycheck. I came to the conclusion that most of them were probably there because they wanted to be. It wasn't until then, so close to the end of the semester, when I actually started to enjoy being a college student. The homework part of it never really grew on me. But for the first time in my life, going to class wasn't so bad. At the beginning of the year, my main reason for showing up was to see which girls were going to be there. But as time passed by, I noticed myself participating in the classroom discussions more often. Since I rarely studied in high school, whenever I was called on to elaborate on a topic, I rarely had anything meaningful to say. But since I'd actually starting hitting the books, I felt like my opinion actually meant something. Once they caught wind of my confidence, most of my professors encouraged me to speak my mind—but none more than Dr. J. What I respected most about him was that he stayed in my ear when I was in the wrong, but never failed to let me know when I was on the right track. Every blue moon, he'd throw in his two cents about things that had nothing to do with school.

“Hey, I don't want to hold you up,” he said, one day after class. “But I just wanted to let you know that I see you coming up. You've come a long way this semester, but I knew you'd come into your own. I told you that when I first met you. Keep up the good work, man. Finish strong.”

“Thanks, Dr. J,” I said. “I will.”

“And hey, watch yourself with those older women,” he said with a laugh.

“What you mean?” I asked, looking around to make sure everyone else in the room had cleared out.

“What you mean, what I mean?” he said. “It looks like you've been doing more than just studying with Katrina.”

I rolled my eyes, with a sly smile.

“It's cool,” he said, giving me dap. “You ain't got nothing to hide, mack daddy. I've been in the game for a long time. Kat's a good girl. She's got a lot going for herself. I wouldn't normally suggest mixing business with pleasure, but you just make sure you don't mess up a good thing. You feel me?”

“Hey, you know I gotta make it do what it do, baby,” I said.

“Well, by all means, do you, brotha. Just remember, in your lifetime you'll only get two women who will love you unconditionally. I mean, that woman who will bless you every time she hears you sneeze, wash your dirty draws and wipe your butt when you're too young or too old to do it yourself. One of them is your mama. When you find the other one…marry her.”

“That's real talk, Dr. J.”

“I'm just keeping it real,” he said as I turned to walk out the door.

When I got to the bottom of the stairs outside, Kat was there waiting for me. She was sitting on a wooden bench just outside the door, digging through her bag. The second she saw me, she popped up, pulled me close to her and pecked me on my lips. I can't say that I'm one for public affection. Holding hands and being lovey-dovey has never really been my style. But Kat was so tight I didn't care.

“Are you okay, baby?” she asked.

“I think I'ma be all right,” I said.

“Well, if you want to talk about anything, you know you can call me, and I'll be there for you.”

“Thanks, boo,” I said.

“Well, as long as you're okay, I guess I can get to my next class,” she said, blowing me another kiss. “I'll give you a call later.”

“Wait,” I said, grabbing her by her wrist. “Before you go, answer this question.”

“Don't you think it's a little soon to be popping the big question?” she asked, with a hint of sarcasm. “I mean, let's not rush things. We've still gotta finish school, J.D.”

“Well, I guess I better return this eight-carat diamond ring I got from Tiffany's with my refund check.”

“Whatever,” she said, rolling her eyes and smiling. “What's up?”

“This might sound funny. But it's been on my mind since that night…Ahh, forget it. Go on to class. I'll ask you later.”

“No, ask me now. I hate when people do that. If you weren't going to ask, why did you even say anything in the first place? I'm already late to class now. C'mon. Spit it out.”

“Why me?”

“What do you mean, why you?”

“I'm sayin', on some real shit, you could have any dude on campus, if you wanted to. Why me—a freshman living on campus, without a whip? I mean, what got you? Was it my million-dollar mouthpiece, my smooth style, my overall studiousnessity or my magic stick?”

“Hmmm. Let me see. It definitely wasn't your hundred-dollar mouthpiece—”

“That was
million
-dollar mouthpiece.”

“Can I finish? Now, where was I? Oh yeah, the ten-dollar mouthpiece…No, it definitely wasn't that. The fact that you've got a fly wardrobe was definitely a plus, but I wouldn't say that's what
got
me. I don't even think
studiousnessity
is a word, so I'm not about to even attempt to entertain that thought. And if I recall correctly, you weren't exactly Houdini the first time we got it on, Mr.
Magic Stick
man.”

“Ssshhh,” I said, putting my finger over my mouth. “There are people out here. Can we keep this convo between us? I mean, damn!”

“My bad,” she said, giggling. “But honestly, I've been thinking about that myself. And I can't call it. I mean, you're sweet, you're cute and you treat me like I'm the most important thing in your life. I guess that's what I've been missing this whole time. You make me feel like I'm important. And I love that about you. Plus, you've always been confident, and I can appreciate that. If there's one thing I can't stand, it's an insecure man. That's the worst.”

“All that's all good, but I'm sayin'…”

“You're saying what?”

“The magic stick ain't have nothing to do with it?”

“Didn't I just say I can't stand an insecure man?”

“Oh, I'm not insecure. Every now and then I just need to know that you know what you got.”

“I know you've got everything I need,” she said, pulling me close and pecking me on the lips again. “Gotta go to this doggone microeconomics class. It's kickin' my butt. I'll call you later, sweetie.”

As I watched Kat walk away, I thought about how glad I was that we were “talking.” But for me, “talking” to Kat meant I had grown feelings for her that I didn't have for any other girl on campus. Even though I'd just met her a couple of months ago, I was definitely thinking that she was the type of woman I could grow to love one day.

“Damn, I know that ass is fat but you kinda stuck, ain't you, joe?” Fresh said, throwing his arm around my shoulder.

“Look at him, yo,” Dub-B said. “Son is mad pussy-whipped.”

“Can you blame him, though?” Fresh asked, staring at Kat's ass switch as she walked away. “I ain't gon' lie. The Bayou Classic was off the chain! But if I had a chance to hit that, I would've stayed here over Thanksgiving break too.”

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